Me, I'm not
by danniblaze
Summary: Set at the begining of Ginger Snaps unleashed. Brigitte's POV.


Me, I'm not

_Ginger snaps _

_Set at the beginning of Ginger Sanps unleashed. Brigitte's POV._

"**Well It's Happening**

**Never Planned On This**

**You've Got Something I Need**

**Kind Of Dangerous**

**And I'm Losing Control**

**I'm Not Used To This**

**What You Want From Me**

**I'm Not Used To This"**

After Ginger died, no... I killed her, she died by my hand, my own sister. I can't think like this, it will drive me crazy. Not that I haven't thought about that in my feverish mind. It could all have been a hallucination, I mean werewolves, lycanthropes, they don't exist, they can't exist. Only in horror movies not out in the suburbs, the mind - numbing dead end town of Bailey Downs.

"Out by sixteen or dead in this scene but together forever". Our pact. In the school just after she had killed the guidance consellor then the old janitor, she reminded me. Join me, she said, we'll be our own little pack. But I had seen what she had become,... a killer. But she was still my sister, what could I do? I needed to protect her from herself not to mention everybody else, but I couldn't control her.

Pam found Trina's severed fingers, we must have dropped them before burying her out in the shed. It was an accident, Ginger didn't kill her but she shouldn't have been anywhere near here. Now she's dead, not OD'd on diet pills but slipped on spilt milk hitting the corner of the worktop. We managed to hide her body in the freezer, pretending her blood was corn syrup for our "death" photographs.

Pam had pulled up next to me in her very suburban people carrier. We were outside the greenhouse Halloween party, hosted by the local drug dealer, Sam. Ginger was in there. Pam said, You girls have done something very wrong. She had found the corpse under the floorboards in the shed, she had her fingers in a tupperware tub. The baby pink nail varnish still very clear, another reminder of how things were spiralling out of control.

We have to leave here, the three of us, Pam carries on, your Dad wouldn't understand, they''ll blame me, they all will, we''ll blow up the house and leave.

I told her it wasn't her fault, she nodded her head, eyes filling up with tears.

Ginger was standing above Sam, who was cradling his arm. Sam was the one who was trying to help me, I had told him I was the one who was changing. He knew a lot about biology and found what we thought was a cure, more importantly he believed. He had hit the beast that had infected Ginger.

Looked like a Lycanthrope to me, officer, he had said.

See werewolves a lot, I had asked.

The cure was actually monkshood or better known as wolfsbane. Maybe those stupid horror movies were on to something after all.

This cure was only temporary, in order for it work you had to keep injecting, the only problem is, it's poison.

I never got a chance to give it to Ginger, she was too long gone. I tried to be like her, sitting at Sam's side his blood everywhere, my hand painfully pulsing where I had cut it mixing blood with Ginger, but the taste of blood made me gag. She growled at me, I yelled at her that I can't, I won't. This angered her, she was fully changed now, an animal. She chased me into our bedroom, Ginger it's me, I had shouted, brandishing a knife at her, but it wasn't her anymore, she had said back at the school, You know were not even really related anymore.

She had jumped, knocking me backwards onto the bed, I didn't realise then that the knife had gone in until warm blood trickled down my wrist. I remember lying on her, listning to her shallow breathing, then nothing. I couldn't stay in this room any longer, photos of me and Ginger staring down at me off the wall, almost accusing, I ran out of the house tears streaming down my face.

My sister, dead. I could still feel her blood on my hand, Sam's in my mouth. Too much blood, theres too much blood on my conscience : Ginger's, Sam's, Trina's, the janitor's and the guidance counsellors.

Now I am slowly becoming what Ginger became, but I won't succumb to the seductions of the lycanthrope, I have seen the end result. The Monkshood is keeping the beast at bay, but not the other one. I am being stalked by another werewolf and like my own lycanthropy, it's closing in.

I pull the blade slowly across my skin, watching the blood drip into the sink. I time how long my cuts take to heal, writing my results in a leather bound pad, there getting quicker by the day. I prepare to shoot up again. What are you doing? Ginger asks, You already dosed today, it's poison, B. Is she a ghost or halluciantion? Is this my punishment for killing my soul mate and deserting my parents? Or maybe I'm just going crazy, projecting my guilt. I place my makeshift shank, toothbrush with a blade, in my mouth biting down hard as the monkshood hits my bloodstream. I lay on my bed shivering.

Remember that game we used to play when we were little? The one where we would hold our breath until we passed out, Ginger's lying next to me, and you'd get scared and call Mom and I'd get into trouble. That game really sucked.

I sit up quickly, the room spins, I can feel him. Do you feel it? Ginger whispers, You're not alone, he's found you again. I chuck the monkshood and my pad into a rucksack, throwing on my coat. Jeremy's at the door. The librarian from tonight. He's saying something about the library books, looking down at them. I can't breathe properly and collapase onto him. He half drags, half carries me to his car. He's saying it's going to be alright, he's going to get help. I'm way beyond help. I sit in the passenger seat, convulsing. Jeremy comes in, I'm gonna get help, he repeats. I scream as the beast smashes Jeremy's window in, locking it's jaws around his neck, shaking him. I'm screaming as blood splatters my face, I'm desperatly tugging on the seatbelt, blood's running into it, covering my hands. The wolf pulls Jeremy out of the car window, the belt comes loose, I throw myself out of the car.

I'm running down a back alley, the snow crunching under my feet, my breath catching in my throat. Blackness is starting to cloud my vision, I'm going to collapse. I feel my eyes roll back as I crash face first into the snow, I register the shock cold of the snow then I go under into oblivion...

"**Hey**

**Can we stop?**

**Me, I'm not"**

Nine inch nails: Me, I'm not.


End file.
